On the Building of Bridges
by rallamajoop
Summary: Haku, Sakura, and a meeting on a bridge in Wave Country that probably never took place.


A note of introduction, this was 'inspired' (so to speak) by a rather horrible Haku/Sakura fic which turned up on the ff anbu LJ community a while back and was promptly mocked to death. It did, however, manage get me wondering whether there was anything interesting you _could_ do to get these two to interact a little (although preferably not in any sort of couple-y type sense, my desire to stretch canon only goes so far). This is the result.

* * *

Unlike the boys, he didn't see her fight on that fateful day in the forest when only his intervention rescued Zabuza-san from death at their master's hands. Given their youth and (apparent) inexperience her teammates performed admirably well, while she alone stood helpless - too overwhelmed to so much as raise a hand in her own defense. One could, on that alone, have been more than justified in dismissing her then and there - poor girl and worse ninja - but assumptions are more deadly than the most fearsome bloodline limit in the world of the shinobi, and Haku will not risk them. While Zabuza-san sleeps he is their eyes and ears; the task falls to him to make them ready for when next they fight, and already the matter of analysing their master's tricks has taken much of his time and thought. Likewise, he has little fear her teammates will match him - however much unfortunate promise they show - leaving her the one unknown quantity, inelegant at best. However, as luck would grant it, while both their masters recuperate it is her alone left to guard the old engineer. So Haku, being as good a spy as a ninja and more than adept at letting people see only what they expect, lays down his senbon, lets down his hair, dresses himself in a kimono and sandals and goes to see what he can learn. 

Finding her is easy - a startling splotch of colour against the worn down greys of the embattled town. Between bright pink hair worn loose and a dress the colour of a signal light, she's so far out of her element here it's a wonder she functions at all. She's seated on a box at the end of the pier when he spots her, idly swinging her legs back and forth, stifling a yawn from time to time and looking generally fed up. As an excuse to speak with her he feigns interest in the new bridge – herself the obvious target for such enquiries, the only one on the construction site not obviously busy. He marvels appropriately at the size of it; stretching off to vanish into the morning mist, and when she wonders at how he hasn't seen it before, he tells her his father is a merchant, that they are passing through Wave Country on their way to the mainland and that he has been left to entertain himself on the docks while his father finishes some business in town. He calls himself Hana, or some similar alias and when she makes the usual mistake of assuming him female, he doesn't correct her.

She's obviously pleased to have company her own age, nothing but bored with this tedious task assigned to her. They had established by then that neither of them had anything else to do with their time, so naturally they sit down to talk.

Being as she is only a twelve year old girl, the first obvious question is what she's doing on the construction site at all, and after she'd admitted she was the engineer's bodyguard who wouldn't have been fascinated to have a real ninja to talk to? Predictable or not, clearly this was an aspect of her chosen career that had yet to occur to her (and likewise the importance of controlling one's body language, given the way her hand moves self-consciously over the tell-tale headband in her hair when he brings up the subject), as she is genuinely unfamiliar with this sort of attention. He notes this, and goes on.

At first she does try to be casual about things - bodyguard work is just one of those jobs young ninjas do. She is certainly quick to point out there's as much sitting around waiting as excitement, that she's on her first mission any stories she can tell of the Life Of The Ninja came to her second-hand, so he tries a more obvious tack

"I was wondering, don't ninjas work in teams of three?" He asks her, all innocent curiosity.

If she's surprised he knows something as specific as that, it doesn't bother her nearly enough. "Mm, but Kakashi-sensei has my teammates training in the forest. I'm the only one guarding Tazuna-san today." Her eyes flicker around as she realises she has all but forgotten that task during the conversation and that, somewhere in the preceding minutes, she lost track of the old man entirely. Fortunately, he's merely become obscured from view behind some equipment and reappears again without incident.

Lucky indeed, but that's not what Haku's here for today.

"What sort of training?" This time his curiosity is quite real.

The answer involves tree climbing, though not in the normal sense, she assures him – they are ninjas after all; but she's wise enough not to go into specifics. By that point she has already brushed aside his questions as to whether ninjas can really breathe fire and walk on water, understandably cautious about giving out clan secrets to strangers (though whether that has more to do with stage fright he won't judge). She's certainly inexperienced then, but not entirely stupid, and her next answer honestly surprises him.

"Don't you need to train too, Sakura-san?" He inquires.

She waves a hand dismissively. "It's just a chakra control exercise. They're easy."

That was the one part he hadn't expected of her. He can guess at the drill she's been referring to, and if it's oddly disheartening to learn that this team could be so inexperienced to have not even mastered that yet; even stranger is the implication that she'd passed her teammates in this exercise already. It's no mean feat to have achieved chakra control so fine at this age, perhaps it even explains the mystery of her selection for this mission, though it falls still short of justifying it. She's a girl with some talent then, but few skills and no experience, thrown out into a world which doesn't have time for someone with mere potential. The coming battle will be nothing like those exercises.

Shifting topics slightly, he inquires, "What kind of people are your teammates?"

He hears how Sasuke was the best student (not to mention the best looking) in their year - the smartest, most mature, the best in all their drills - how he was already doing Jounin-rank jutsus, how close he came to beating Kakashi-sensei in their graduation exam, and how incredible he was in their first real fight. Naruto, by contrast, is unsubtly reported as an annoying, lazy, talentless, loudmouth-showoff-moron with absolutely no tact and questionable personal hygiene. What he does get in his favour amounts to little more than a slight nod of uncertainty, getting stronger the longer she goes on, as if she's repeated this tirade a dozen times and is only now realising there might be a few points she needs to reassess in light of new evidence. Grudgingly, she tacks the admission on the end "Though he was pretty cool in that last fight, I guess." The patch of pavement she mumbles this to does not seem bothered by it.

In their last fight, the Naruto she refers was two thirds of the reason Zabuza is currently unable to leave his bed and she is still alive; but he isn't at liberty to draw attention to such things. What he knows of her teammates is limited to one distant meeting – not enough to glean more than the most general impression – yet still enough that it's obvious she doesn't know them nearly as well as she would like to think she does. He would not be here if ignorance of another's skill – ally or enemy – was something a ninja could ever afford. The shame of it is she's not stupid, merely too young and innocent to begin to appreciate what the life she's chosen will mean.

Forty minutes, and excepting that single unexpected hint she's said or done nothing to make him reassess his original view of her - she isn't much of a ninja. She's too gaudy for a start, lacking in intuition and shows no hint of the dedication required. Maybe there's potential somewhere under that exterior, but she'll go to bits the first time she sees a man die. In his world she'd never have survived this long.

Lost in his own thoughts, he misses the point where she manages to direct the conversation back to more innocent topics.

"Is this the first time you've been to Wave Country, Hana-san?" She asks him. He replies in the affirmative (they travel a lot, but he doesn't often see the same place twice); repeats the question back to her; then, to be polite, inquires as to how she's been finding this place.

Sakura's expression fades sharply at this point, semi-consciously curling her legs up into a huddle at her chest. A week ago she might have played polite tourist at this juncture, but no longer. "It's awful here." She confides. "What Gatou's doing to these people… I went shopping in town with Tazuna-san earlier - they've hardly any food anywhere and everything's so dirty and miserable. Everyone working here is terrified of him - we've lost three men since the start of the week. It's nothing like Konoha. I didn't think there were places like this anymore. No wonder Tazuna-san wants this bridge built so badly."

Haku recalls another bridge from times past, days of living under it fighting rats for food, and one question he hadn't planned slips out (because there are some things you don't want or need to know about people you must soon kill) - he asks her about Konoha. To be specific, he asks whether Wave Country is really so different from the place she grew up. Her reply isn't short, but can be summarised as 'completely'.

Konoha truly can't be far from the haven she describes if she's been so horribly sheltered that she's made Genin rank and this run-down town still shocks her. In all his missions with Zabuza-san he's seen the mainland only twice; but nowhere like the country she quietly describes. And yet, it can't be a land that breeds only weaklings, or Zabuza-san would never have needed his assistance fighting so few. These people don't seem like real ninjas at all, not in any sense that he's accustomed to - they come from a whole other world. That the boys could have come from that same world as she makes it only all the more strange.

Of course, he knows perfectly well the real world can't work in the way she likes to believe. You can't feel sorry for everyone. If you can be strong enough to take care of yourself and the ones who matter the most, that is enough. Zabuza-san has made such matters painfully clear - has drilled him in this since he was old enough to understand. A ninja is a tool, a tool has a purpose. If it is no longer useful, you cast it away. Worse still is the implication that should a superior one be found the old one is no longer needed, but Haku has every intention of making himself useful as long as he remains capable of standing.

He has one final question, though he shouldn't need an answer. "Are you scared?"

There's an uncomfortable silence, her gaze fixing once more on that pavement square in serious consideration before she admits, "A little." Then she remembers herself; lightens and looks straight at him, eyes almost focusing. "But I'm glad we can help them with the bridge – we're doing something good here. It wasn't what I expected to do with my first mission; but we're ninjas, we do all kinds of work. Anyway, Kakashi-sensei is with us - Sasuke-kun too - so we don't have anything to worry about." It's the response of someone who's been swept up and carried here in someone else's enthusiasm, who doesn't really know what she's doing or why, but hopes somewhere along the way she'll be able to figure it out. Still, the smile she pulls is exaggerated only, not forced.

There's no more to learn here he needs to hear, he's already drawn this out longer than is wise. At the next break in conversation he makes a show of noting the angle of the sun, informs her of a realisation that his father's business should be long over by now and that he'll be late if he waits any longer. He thanks her for her company, politely if hurriedly, and takes his leave. Before turning to go he wishes her luck, but doesn't examine too deeply how sincerely he means it.

The later meeting with Naruto in the forest would be far less intentional, but no less intriguing. 'Gaudy', he's deciding, must be the norm where they come from (intuition also, seems to have been spread consistently thin), though there's certainly no dedication lacking in this one. It's interesting though, the knowledge her teammates have no more field experience than she, yet they've all grown into such different creatures. Under Zabuza's instructions he has willingly fought and killed any number of opponents without hesitation, but he has never before faced any this young. He can't help but admit that he's going to regret what he'll have to do this time, even just a little. Zabuza-san would be ashamed.

When the day of his last meeting with the Konoha children finally comes, a girl he may have once spoken to briefly on a bridge leading nowhere is the farthest thing from his mind. But those boys – there is something there almost familiar; they are the evidence of invisible cracks in that shelter where Sakura was raised. Sasuke could almost become him someday with the wrong kind of luck; but Naruto has a kind of brilliance about him that drowns out that kind of logic. They're all important people to each other - strong ties for a team that young; though they don't yet understand quite what that means.

He has a responsibility, he decides, to make them see at least that much.

* * *

When it was all over; between Sasuke's death and subsequent ressurection, between Gatou's sudden appearance with his ninja-rent-a-hoard and Naruto's surprisingly impassioned outburst and Zabuza's last stand and - just when they thought that really had to be it - Inari showing up with the whole embattled village in tow; Sakura could probably be excused for never finding a moment for a good look at the dead boy's face. When they come to bury him, however, she does get just enough of an eyefull to give her the eerie sensation she's seen him before. She hasn't forgotten the conversation on the bridge - one about rather more than the words exchanged. However, the connection eludes her, and even she is not beyond recognising that she might be happier not knowing any more. 


End file.
